From the Ashes

"He almost kissed me..."

"Yeah, I saw that! It was almost too precious to disturb. Almost."

"Oh, but Kait," I sigh, gazing at the sky with one hand pressed to my fluttering heart, and the other lightly touching my lips as I replay the moment that almost was over and over in my mind, "I wanted him to. God, I think I'm falling for him." Kaitlin sits up straight from where we lay leisurely in the grass in my back yard, giving me a look.

"Since when? You always would just sneer at the thought of him, baby cakes." I cover my face and groan, all these strong feelings making my heart drunk with excitement and my brain frantic with analytically discerning thoughts as it tries to dissect every aspect of what was going on here.

"I know... I think I just have a crush on him."

"Aren't you a little old to have a crush on someone?" Kaitlin giggles at me. I give her a pouty face.

"That's the best way I can think to put it! It's just a really strong infatuation..."

"There you go, you just thought of another way to put it, brain-o," she teases affectionately. There is a slight pause as she lies down on her back, and we stare at the wispy clouds for a moment. She finally speaks up.

"I think you should be careful," she says very softly. A nervous flutter interrupts the happy party the butterflies are having in my chest. I turn my head to give her a sad, questioning look, desperately open to guidance. She chooses her words carefully for a moment before answering. "He's not really the kind of guy you take home to your parents," she starts, "His reputation is awful. He's a lady killer, 'Leithy. And he doesn’t come from a good home like you do. You and I both know you don't date or love casually. And I'm sorry to break the news to you, sugar, but I don't think Roman's the type to return that kind of love." My stomach twists into knots upon knots. I involuntarily clutch at my chest as a hurtful feeling rushes through it. Kaitlin was right. Even I had heard the kinds of rumors that run around school about Roman Spade. My heart cries as the notion, wanting all of this to be false, wanting Roman to be the kind of guy who doesn’t just use a girl and toss her away when he’s done. I worm closer to Kaitlin to rest my head against her shoulder. She places her head down on mine.

"I hate being naive."

"You just look for the good in people, that's all." I contradict her in my mind, knowing full well that I was naive to a fault. I got it from my mother, and it didn't help that I was raised in a solid household with no serious dysfunctions. I was raised in a loving and sheltered environment, and the shocks of what really goes on even in my school, I never paid any mind to. Drugs, lots of sex, partying. I just didn't think about it, and I never assumed it of anyone. Though, in reality, I should be doing the opposite. Was this the same case for Roman?

"I don't even think I want to know what you know," I whisper. She nods against my head and rubs my arm.

"Just be careful. You can be friends with him all you want, just keep it at arm's length, I say. That could complicate your project and your summer anyways if you two were romantic, ya know?" I ponder the point, realizing she's right.

"If anything were to go south, I'd be stuck there with him, having to finish that project no matter what."

"Exactly. Aren't I a freakin' genius?" she croons as she elbows me. I give a laugh, and some of the hurt eases. Taking a giant breath and hugging Kaitlin, I slowly start to let go of the feelings that I let fester in my chest for him. I didn't want to be his next victim. I would never allow myself to ever be used. It would hurt me too much, she was right in saying that I don't love lightly. I love the way I was raised to love, the way my mother and father love each other. Deeply and thoroughly, built on a foundation of strength and trust. I had a strong belief in marriage, togetherness, and family. That's how I date, I can't help it. I even had a bad experience about a year ago, dating a guy who I really liked, who just wanted to get in my pants by pretending he wanted all the same things that I did. Thankfully, that relationship didn't last long, and I was only hung up over it for a month or two.

The sound of a truck in the front of the house causes us to stir.

"That's my cue," Kaitlin chimes as we get up, and I walk her to her mustang in the driveway. I wave goodbye to her as she pulls out, and I hear my mother calling for me from the back porch. I glance at the truck parked in the street, and trot into the house.

"I'm here," I call once I'm in, and I find Roman and his mother waiting in the dining room, where the table is set nicely, and Mrs. Hughes is placing a dish that she brought along as well. I avoid Roman's gaze as his mother smiles warmly at me before rising to greet me.

"Hey, Aleithea, it's nice to finally meet you," she says, pulling me into a soft hug, and I smile at the surprising gesture. So... pleasant. With a silent laugh, I wonder how Roman turned out the way he is. "I'm Amy," she tells me as I sit.

"It's really nice to meet you, and so generous of you to let me crash your family vacation plans," I joke, and she gives a jovial laugh.

"Oh honey, everyone will love having a new member to all the happenings this summer, you're a real refresher," she pats my hand on the table when she says this, and I continue to smile at her friendliness. My own mother enters from the living room.

"Did Kaitlin go home?" she asks, and I look up at her as she takes a seat next to Mrs. Hughes...er, Amy.

"Yeah, she did." She nods, and starts to serve the dinner.

We get down to talking about the technical stuff like what I should bring, if I'll need money for food or anything, where I'll be staying. I avoid as much eye contact as I can with Roman, and I think he notices by the way he looks at me when he happens to catch my eye on occasion. The conversation is mostly carried by my mother and Amy, who get along just fine. Roman and I put in a few words when asked, and as the conversation progresses, the uneasiness I feel around Roman starts to dwindle. It would be bad to start anything romantic with him, yes, but if I'm going to spend the summer with him, it sure as hell can't be awkward or distant. I finally just sigh, and put my spinning brain to rest, blocking out any strong emotion to make room for the casualness to come back between us. I pat myself mentally on the back at my ability to squash the strong infatuation that I had let slip into my heart, and I am able to smile at Roman when he addresses me after we've long finished the actual meal part of our dinner.

"You should give me a tour of your house, Allie," he says, looking around the combined kitchen and dining room with an interested smile. I smirk after my mother gives me a positive gesture.

"Alright, come on, but don't laugh at the mess in some places," I say as I stand and lead Roman three steps into the kitchen. "Kitchen, obviously," I chime with a flourish of my arm, and a tour guide-like inflection. He nods in mock approval, his hands clasped professionally behind his back. I lead him back through the connected dining room on my way to the other end of the one-story house, showing him the front foyer that holds the door and a closet, with which he is already familiar. Beyond that, I show him our cozy living room, complete with television, piano, loveseat, and easy-chair. He gives a devious laugh after he discovers some old family pictures that dot the walls and stand up on tabletops, pointing out 'little-me' with wide grins full of crooked teeth. I drag him away from them, laughing in embarrassment, toward the narrow hallway that is lined with doors that lead to different rooms.

"This is my mother's room, we're not going in there, and this is the bathroom across from it," I say, showing them off like Vanna White. He oo's and ah's at the decorative bathroom, and I tell him it was a recent project of my mother and mine after my father had remodeled it.

"And I'm guessing this is your room," his voice floats from down the hall, while I'm still standing in the bathroom, not noticing that he had snuck out behind me.

"Excuse me!" I call, scurrying out of the bathroom and down the hall to my bedroom, where Roman stands among dirty clothes, surveying it like it's his job, "Have you no decency, sir?" I say with a laugh, rapidly kicking the clothing into a semi-neat mass, as opposed to having piles strewn everywhere. Blushing like mad, I hide the undergarments hastily at the bottom of the pile.

"Oh, please," he chuckles, stepping around the room to look at all the knick-knacks and items that cover my dresser tops and shelves, "You should see my room at my dad's house. Oh wait," he straightens briefly from hunching over a picture of Kaitlin and me on my dresser, "You already have."

"Yeah, it’s way messier than mine, what a slob," I tease, still trying to tidy up a little by kicking more junk under my bed. Satisfied, I plop down cross-legged on my mattress. Roman pauses in his sweep of the room to gaze at a frame that sits on my bedside table. He slowly sits down beside me, picking up the frame to continue staring at it. He's quiet, and I watch him scan it over multiple times with his eyes before scooting closer to him to look at it too. It's a picture that was taken a few years ago, of my family when we took a trip out to New York City. It was taken in Times Square, and we had asked a random tourist to snap it of the three of us. I stood in the middle of my parents, both of my arms wrapped around my father, while my head was leaning against his chest. His arm was draped across my shoulders, extended to include my mother in the embrace as well. She was smiling beautifully at the camera, her hand delicately placed on my arm. There was a big toothy smile on my face, and my straight auburn hair was tugged back into a ponytail. I looked away from the photo to peer at Roman.

"That was a couple years ago," I inform him, and he trails a pale hand over the side of the frame.

"It's a really nice photo, did you guys get it professionally done?" he asks.

"No, actually," I chuckle, my hand brushing against his as I gently take the frame from him to look at it more closely, "I think this was taken when my dad got his fancy new Nokia camera. That thing's a beast." Roman leans over to look at it in my lap, his arm bumping lightly against my back as he puts his weight on it.

"So," he breathes, his voice very close to my ear, "When do I get to meet your dad? Looks like a nice guy." His voice is soft, and I think it has gotten even closer. I chuckle, and I push Roman off from leaning against me as I set the picture frame back on the bedside table. I twist to face him on the bed with a smile, and his eyes are hooded as he looks down at me.

"In... approximately four years," I state. He blinks at me before tilting his head very slightly to the side.

"Is he in jail?" I let out a burst of a guffaw, genuinely cracking up and grabbing my gut at his presumption. He just rolls his eyes with a smile as he waits for me to calm down.

"Oh, no no no," I say, still giggling like mad as I pat his chest.

"Then where is he?" he asks, his hand shooting up to capture mine against his front before I set it back down. I slide it out from between his hand and his chest as I answer.

"He's in Connecticut, at submarine school right now," I breathe, and I watch his thick brows disappear into his shaggy bangs, "He's in the Navy." Roman's gaze drops from mine to stare at the bed in thought, a blank look on his face.

"The Navy, really?" He whispers. I nod, crawling off the bed to fish through some photographs on my dresser. I return to him with my father's Navy boot camp graduation photo. I stand in front of him on the bed as I present it. The corner of his mouth slides up into a smile as he places his hands over mine on the frame.

"Wow," he says, "You must be really proud of him."

"My mom and I both are," I whisper softly, trailing my hand over the photo, my heart aching at the truth of it all. "He's doing it for us. He lost his job at the glass factory, and was having a really hard time getting back into the workforce. And when my mom's job started to not be enough to cover our expenses... He enlisted in the Navy to support us." I hug the photo to my chest. "He's the strongest person I know." I feel Roman's hand lightly rest on the side of my leg.

"Why don't you guys just move out to be with him?" he asks.

"There's no guarantee that he'll be stationed in Connecticut after his sub school is over. Plus, it's a higher cost of living out there if we want a nice place. And they both didn't want to uproot me from my high school and my friends during junior year. They figure I might as well finish school here where I've been all my life." His other hand is on my other leg now, and I look down at him from where I stand between his legs. His smoky eyes search mine from beneath his shaggy black hair for a moment.

"It's really not that bad," I say in response to the sad look he's giving me, "We visit him once every few months, and he can come home on leave between schools and deployment. He just... Misses a lot of stuff that goes on here at home." I hug the picture even closer to my chest. "Like concerts. The musical next year, our birthdays, their anniversary, my graduation... He could be deployed during any of them, we have no idea when exactly he'll be able to come home..." I trail off, and silence falls between us. After a moment, Roman pulls me against him, sliding one arm up to press against the small of my back, the other holds me low at the hip. I stifle a small gasp as I move the frame in time before Roman buries his head in my chest. Startled, I hesitate before tentatively resting my arm across his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Aleithea," his muffled voice floats up at me. My heart pounds a bit faster as I reply.

"Don't be, Roman. It really is okay, or he wouldn't have done it. We are so proud of him, and he'll be back." Roman moves his head off of my chest to gaze up at me, but keeps the proximity of our bodies. He says nothing, just looks at me with those eyes. I just hold his gaze, my hand gently finding his cheek, warm against my skin. His look disappears as he closes his eyes at my touch, sighing silently as he leans into it. I blink rapidly at him, my heart erupting in those damn butterflies as my brain starts to panic. I remove my hand quickly as I step out of his grasp. I avoid his questioning look as I fumble with putting the picture back on the dresser.

"Come on, our mothers are probably wondering where we disappeared to."